“Is your husband here to-night?” he asked. While he was thus employed, his nerves underwent a severe shock. At length, she suddenly started to her feet; and before Winifred could prevent her, staggered up to Thames. There was a new softness in her eyes, a hesitation, a timidity about her manner which was almost pathetic. ‘Do please continue,’ Gerald begged, deceptively docile. “Listen! There was a Meysey Hill in Paris, an American railway millionaire. But not a word to him of Lady Trafford's absence—mind that.
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